<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Scars by caelenath</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397666">Scars</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelenath/pseuds/caelenath'>caelenath</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Power Rangers, Power Rangers S.P.D.</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Friendship, Gen, Pre-Canon, Short</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-05-27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 03:47:58</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>979</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24397666</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/caelenath/pseuds/caelenath</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Bridge's roommate unexpectedly comes looking for him after he receives his first training injury.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Bridge Carson &amp; Sky Tate</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>26</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Scars</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bridge sat on the medical bed with his feet hanging above the floor as he tried and mostly failed to stop looking at the newly stitched wound on his arm. It was still numb from the local anesthetic, and the cadet medic who had sewn him up had covered it with a clear gel to protect it for the first day or two. It's waterproof, she had said, so he could have an easier time showering and what not. Bridge didn't care too much about that; what he couldn't decide was whether or not it was a good thing he could see the wound. Something about the ragged and puffy red line was mesmerizing in a gruesome kind of way, hence why he hadn't left the infirmary yet. He considered asking for bandages.</p>
<p>"Hey. There you are."</p>
<p>Sky Tate, his roommate of six months, walked into the room as easily as if it were the training simulator. Bridge was pretty sure the treatment area was supposed to be limited to patients and medical staff only, but nobody questioned Sky. They never did.</p>
<p>"What are you doing here?" Bridge asked.</p>
<p>"I heard about what happened in the training sim. When you didn't show for dinner, I got kind of worried, so I asked around, and someone on C squad said you were still in here."</p>
<p>Sky had gotten worried? About him? The question popped out of Bridge's mouth as soon as the thought popped up in his head, and Sky gave him a funny look.</p>
<p>"You never miss dinner," the other cadet said like it was the most obvious thing in the world, and maybe it was because it was true, but it also wasn't something Bridge would have expected his roommate to notice.</p>
<p>Sky nodded at Bridge's wounded arm. "Congratulations. That looks like it's gonna scar."</p>
<p>Bridge frowned as he was legitimately unsure of how to read that. Sky, as one of the top cadets in the Academy as well as an alum recruit, had a superiority streak that was not subtle and not always unjustified, but even so, Bridge didn't think he was the sort to rub the salt in when a man was down. He might have been kind of mean, but he wasn't spiteful.</p>
<p>"I remember when I got my first scar during training," Sky went on. "I was pretty proud of it at the time."</p>
<p>And he probably still was, if the look on his face was anything to go by. It dawned on Bridge then that his roommate was attempting to sympathize with him, and maybe even bond a little over this new commonality they shared—or would share if Bridge's wound did in fact leave a lasting scar. The idea didn't bother him, and now he even had a weird sort of anticipation for it.</p>
<p>"You mean the one on your shoulder?" Bridge asked.</p>
<p>"Yeah."</p>
<p>That was the only scar Bridge could recall ever seeing on his roommate, and it wasn't a subtle one. The five-inch pinkish-white line stretched diagonally across Sky's right shoulder blade. Bridge could see it even from his side of the room whenever Sky changed. "How'd you get it?"</p>
<p>"C-level qualifications. They sent us to the Nebula Academy for a three-day training sim with their D-levels, and on the last day, I misjudged a hit. After it healed, I had to retake the qualification."</p>
<p>Bridge winced in sympathy. Though nothing at the Academy could truly be called easy, the qualification tests for moving up squad levels were particularly heinous. He couldn't imagine having to take it twice in a row.</p>
<p>"Ugh. That must have really sucked."</p>
<p>"Oh, it did," Sky agreed emphatically, to Bridge's surprise. He had expected the other cadet to just shrug it off—just another old challenge long conquered to get to where he was today. Instead, this was the first time Bridge had ever heard Sky complain about anything at the Academy.</p>
<p>Unfortunately, neither of them seemed to know where to go from there, and in the protracted silence, Bridge's stomach took matters into its own hands and rumbled. Loudly. He looked down at it self-consciously even though it was a stupid thing to be self-conscious about. His stomach had always been vocal and people for some reason always felt the need to comment on it. Sky did too, but unlike other people, he treated it like a minor problem to be remedied, like an untied shoe, and his solution was usually to tell Bridge to go eat something. No tired gibes, no snide looks or indulgent attitude, just literally, 'Bridge, go eat something.'</p>
<p>"I was about to ask if you were hungry," Sky said, "but I guess there's my answer. Did they discharge you yet?"</p>
<p>"Huh? Oh. Yeah."</p>
<p>"Want to go get some dinner?" Sky asked now. "I'm kind of hungry too. I didn't eat much earlier."</p>
<p>Which really begged the question of why because Sky had a routine like clockwork. Training, meals, and sleep all had their allotted space and time with no room left over for unnecessary disruptions or detours, like a late dinner. Bridge tried to recall the date; it wasn't daylight savings time, was it?</p>
<p>"Sure," he replied, swallowing all the questions that crowded onto his tongue. As he slid off the bed, he pretended to adjust one of his gloves while glancing surreptitiously at his roommate. Sky's aura had a yellow tinge to it that was only just starting to fade away, and that made Bridge smile. Sky really had been worried.</p>
<p>Before he even got three steps, Sky was telling him not to forget his jacket, and Bridge's smile grew wider.</p>
<p>"What?" Sky demanded, as if a smile were a thing of suspicion.</p>
<p>"Nothing," Bridge said beatifically. He retrieved his jacket like he was told and the two of them walked out of the infirmary side by side.</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>